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I've heard bells tolling "old Adrian's mole
Their thunder rolling from the Vatican,
And cymbals glorious swinging uproarious
In the gorgeous turrets of Notre Dame;
But thy sounds were sweeter than the Dome of

Flings o'er the Tiber tolling solemnly,—
Oh the bells of Shandon

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Sound so grand on

The pleasant waters of the River Lee.

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That sound so grand on

The pleasant waters of the River Lee.

There's a bell in Moscow, while on tower and kiosko In St. Sophia the Turkman gets,

And loud in air calls men to prayer

From the tapering summit of tall minarets;
Such empty phantom I freely grant them,
But there's an anthem more dear to me,—
'Tis the bells of Shandon

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Rev. Francis Mahony.

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HE cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard,
Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the


Of one who, from the far-off hills, pro-

Tidings of good to Zion: chiefly when
Their piercing tones fall sudden on the ear
Of the contemplant, solitary man,
Whom thoughts abstruse or high have chanced to lure
Forth from the walks of men, revolving oft,
And oft again, hard matter which eludes

And baffles his pursuit,-thought-fick and tired
Of controversy, where no end appears,
No clue to his research, the lonely man

Half wishes for society again.

Him, thus engaged, the Sabbath bells salute,
Sudden! his heart awakes, his ear drinks in
The cheering mufic; his relenting soul
Yearns after all the joys of social life,
And softens with the love of human kind.
Charles Lamb.

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